


Bite Me

by Casstea



Category: Inception (2010), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Q is a vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Casstea/pseuds/Casstea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Q is a vampire (not the sparkly kind), Bond is a human, and some of MI6 can do some magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite Me

**Author's Note:**

> For fearlessandproud who prompted me with ‘Either Q or Bond is a vampire! I don’t know just something interesting, maybe some creepy twilight stalking’ and then I took the idea and ran a marathon. Hope you like it! :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own James Bond, this is written for fun and not for profit.

Being a vampire was not as amazing as 90% of the general population considered it to be.

Firstly, there wasn’t any sparkling (at all). Nor was there any death by sunlight, crossing religious borders, or the ability to turn into a bat. Nor the rumours about being granted special powers or suspiciously ease at being able to control the aptly named ‘Thirst’.

Some of the rumours were true, however. The ones that vampires to drink blood to survive, and that a stake through the heart would kill one were correct. The immortality rumour was a bit wrong (it wasn’t exactly immortality that vampirism granted the infected, but life could be sustained by the consumption of blood on an infinite basis), and vampires did look slightly paler than normal human beings.

But that was about it.

So when Q walked into MI6, nobody batted an eyelid that he was a few shades paler than the other humans. Although that could be because the security troll guarding the door was, like most trolls, more brute than intelligence.

“Morning, Q,” a female voice said as an arm slipped into his own. Q returned the smile back at Eve who was taking another swig of coffee from her branded cup. MI6 was in a quiet period, only a few sleeper operations were still being monitored around the world but there weren’t any big jobs being pulled by the world’s organised criminals.

Rather thoughtful of them, Q considered.

“How’s my favourite vampire this morning?” Eve asked.

“Fine, how’s my favourite witch?” Q replied back.

Eve gave him a glare.

“I think you know that the term is ‘Sorceress’ and you know it Mr Corpse,” Eve jibed as they both flashed their security cards at the scanner, and stepping into the lift which would take them to their required floors (3 for Q, 9 for Moneypenny), “and I can turn you into a frog you know,”

“Just because you love me,” Q smiled back with a wide smile to show his teeth. Some people would be unnerved by a vampire showing another their teeth (including fangs), but Eve was used to the supernatural traits of her co-worker and didn’t bat an eyelid.

“Good evening?” she asked, as the lift started to move up towards the required floor.

“Quiet,” Q replied, “I was able to read a few more chapters of that book you gave me,”

“ _Betrayed by Midnight?”_

“Yep,”

“I gave that to you last Christmas,”

“I’m a slow reader,”

“You can’t be  _that_  slow a reader, I would bet Bond can even read faster than that,”

“He’s a human, he has special dispensation,”

“For reading slow or your general moonyness whenever he turns up?”

Q glared at Eve as the doors opened on his floor. Eve gave Q a pat on the shoulder as he walked out of the lift and towards Q branch.

“I’ll get you back for that one day,” Q called over his shoulder as the lift doors shut.

“ _It’s for your own good you silly corpse, now get to work,”_ Eve’s voice replied in his mind.

Q shook his head, pushing his glasses further up his nose (he didn’t really need them, but he liked the feeling of authority when he worse them), and strode into Q branch.

x-x-x

There were many types of person in the world, both human and supernatural alike. It was hard for someone to not at least claim one human or supernatural relative in their family, what with the rise of vampirism after the release of a pathetic children’s story (Q was glad that the recent legislation had changed that, more people began to understand the  _drawbacks_ of being what some considered a re-animated corpse. The Human Rights scandal surrounding the entire episode had made some lawyers very rich, very quickly, and Q had thought it was rather sad he was working in the intelligence and not the legal business).

Well, not that money was much of an objection.

Q looked about twenty five, but like most vampires he was slightly older than that. In fact, he was one of the few vampires who could claim they had been ‘created’ (Q did hate that term so, Vampirism had been classified as a disease nearly ten years ago, people should really do their research) before the supernatural rise after the second world war. On all official documents, Q had been born in 1901 to a miller and his wife, before being turned during his time in the trenches of Europe. Quite a few had been attacked during that time, after all it had been when the myths and legends of vampires, werewolves, fairies, witches and all kinds of folklore had begun to surface as actual reality. With the improvements of technology, more discoveries of far flung vampire clans who had lived for hundreds upon hundreds of years had added to interesting changes to the historical records, such as the fact that the Myans had simply finished the cycle of their calendar because they had assumed the world could not exist for more than five thousand years, based upon their own religious beliefs systems.

Many of those who had built their purpose built ‘Apocalypse Shelters’ had been most disappointed.

Whilst Q could not claim his real age was as impressive as those vampires, he did have an interesting claim to fame that only himself and his brother knew. It amused them greatly to watch the recent adaptations of Richard III, secretly knowing that their uncle had in fact saved their lives from two werewolves, shipping them to France to live undercover until another assassination attempt when Q had been in his mid twenties and his brother nearing thirty had left them as blood sucking vampires for their remaining existence on Earth.

Histories would probably have a field day for that information, knowing that the infamous ‘Princes in the Tower’ hadn’t been killed and were in fact alive and (almost) well in the twenty first century.

His brother was working overseas, having taken the name of ‘Arthur’ after the Celtic myth of the King with the same name. The last Q had heard he was involved with some shapeshifter called Eames, which for Arthur was something of an achievement. Q couldn’t blame his brother really, their childhood had given them both an healthy dose of paranoia, although in the present day people were less likely to assume they were heirs to the throne.

Part of Q was secretly glad of the way his life had turned out. After all, he had been able to see the wondrous leaps in technology and civilisation, which for him was fascinating (he had always been the better politician out of himself and his brother, where his brother had the better organisation and leadership skills).

However, on a grey Monday morning, when a certain human agent swaggered into Q branch and present some very dented equipment, Q would sometimes feel his gladness at an extended life wain. At least if he had died in the 1500s he would not have had to put up with the extraordinary infuriating presence that was James Bond.

“Something the matter, Q?” Bond asked. He knew full well that Q could rip his arm off at a moment’s notice (another advantage of belonging to the undead, general heighted senses and strength), but the agent was seemingly blasé about it all.  Maybe it had been because the previous M had been a member of the supernatural (one of the few living descendants of the powerful Farie Royalty) and his operations with Eve that had left him undeterred by some folks supernatural ‘quirks’ as he termed them.

Or maybe it was because he was one few agents would had actually managed to kill an attacking vampire by himself.

“Is it possible,  _one day_ , 007,” Q replied, “not to bring my equipment back in pieces.”

“Well at least you know if it passes a mission with me, it’ll work fine for everyone else,”

“You are not my personal test guinea pig, 007,”

“Am I not?” Bond replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I will make Eve turn you into a guinea pig if you make any more insinuations in the work place, 007,” Q replied, “now go to M for debriefing please.”

“Now?”

“He instructed me to use violent force if need be,”

“No need to get your glasses in a twist, Q,” Bond replied, sliding another thing out of his pocket and placing it on the desk. It was a processor from one of the terrorists computers, a processor Q had been dying to get his hands on for  _months_.

“Now you’re just spoiling me,” Q said, eyes widening in delight as he picked up the processor chip with unabashed glee.

“You care about your computers more than you do me,” Bond joked, “I’m hurt.”

“Go to M,” Q said, giving Bond a dark look from over his glasses, “or you’ll be shot,”

“Hardly,” Bond replied, walking out of the study, “I’m MI6’s greatest asset,”

Q rolled his eyes at the retreating agent’s back, before plugging the data chip into the side of his computer so he could begin to analyse it.

x-x-x

In the months, then years that past, Bond always argued to Q that it was that data chip which had sparked off the romance. Q had said that Bond was far too irritating to do anything that romantic as to bring a data chip back to MI6 just for him.

x-x-x

The water trickled down the back of Q’s neck, making him shiver as he fought to find the key to his flat among the many which sat around the key ring, umbrella balanced in the crook of his elbow. Being a vampire didn’t provide you the innate protection against the elements as some would believe, he could still feel the heat and cold just as any other human, he was just slightly less affected by it. However, he was drenched to the bone, so even his superhuman status could provide no warmth from the water that soaked through his clothing.

Finally, he found the correct key, quickly putting it into the lock and turning it with one hand, the other grasping the doorhandle as he placed his weight against it, stumbling inside the cramped hallway and shutting the door firmly behind him, closing himself in the cocoon of warmth that was home.

It had not been a good day.

At all.

Shutting his umbrella, leaving it open underneath the coatrack, he shook off his coat and hung it next to the dry black trench coat which was already hung there.

Obviously his brother had managed to get into  _his_  flat (probably by picking the lock) much earlier and had missed the bad weather.

Not that the weather was really his priority at that moment.

His missing agent, on the other hand, was his priority.

“You there Richard?” a voice called through from the lounge area, as an impeccably well-dressed man poked his head out from around the corner. His brother was still wearing his suit, although the shirt was untucked, a sign of his worry.

“Who else is it going to be, Ed?” Q answered.

“You never know,” Edward replied, “it could be your Bond and my Eames have finally decided to make a re-apperance, Richard.”

“Don’t call me Richard,”

“Well don’t call me Ed then. I’m growing a liking to Arthur anyway.”

Q rolled his eyes, shaking off his coat and resting the umbrella next to the coat stand. The water continued to drip onto the carpet, and his shoes were waterlogged, the leather squelching with every footstep.

“So you prefer your super-secret code name now?” Arthur asked.

“I’m supposed to give my name up when I got prompted,” Q replied.

“It wasn’t even your real name,” Arthur commented.

“I want to try and at least make an effort,” Q said.

“Whatever you say,  _Q,”_  Arthur replied, grabbing his arm and pulling Q into the room where, by the looks of the numerous pieces of tech lying about the room, he had been turning into a small Operations Base.

“Still heard nothing?” Q asked his brother, taking off his wet cardigan and taking the dry fleece proffered by his sibling.

“No word,” Arthur replied, a grim expression on his face, “I tried to warm him-”

“He is as stubborn as James,” Q said, giving his brother a comforting smile, “they knew what they were getting into.”

“Dream technology on this scale though,” Arthur replied, “I haven’t seen anything this dangerous since my last job.”

Q didn’t comment on the fact that Arthur had once (and according to Q’s sources, still) a conman using the Dream technology to acquire millions off wealthy businessmen. However, when M had confronted Q about his knowledge of Dream tech, and the requirements of James’ next mission to be well versed in the technology and how to use it, Q had immediately turned to his older brother.

And his older brother’s involvement had naturally led to Eames’ involvement, which had in turn led to both men being captured by the members of the terrorist organisation they were trying to infiltrate as an attempt to try and get back at Arthur’s previous employer for the famous  _Inception_  job three years previously.  Eames had managed to shift into a bear and maul a few of their attackers, with James taking out a few others, but they had been subdued and were now being held in a cell in the back end of nowhere, lost from all radars.

“Go get a shower,” Arthur said, “I’ll continue to watch the info,”

Q nodded to his older brother, patting him on the shoulder. They were both compromised, both annoyed, and both ready to allow for all hell to break loose when they had finally found the location of their other halves.

 _Well,_ Q considered,  _it has been a while since either of us have been able to stretch to our full potential._

x-x-x

When the general population flicked on the news two days later, they heard a story about a house in a far flung country in Europe had been attacked by some sort of dangerous creature, with all occupants being mauled to death. There had been rumours that the occupants had been terrorists, who had been holding hostages and demanding ransom, however MI6 had neither confirmed no denied the accusation that one of their operatives had been one of the hostages

x-x-x

Bond awoke to a cacophony of noise.

He lay still for a moment, trying to pry into his memory to find out what had happened, when the guards around Eames’ and his cell had started to panic in chaos. How anyone had found their holding place in the back end of nowhere so quickly, Bond had no idea. How they had managed to carry the very drugged Eames out, he had no further idea.

Why he was not dead was another thing he had no further idea to.

“You’re awake,” a voice said, softly, next to Bond. He turned his head, surprised to find that he rested on soft pillows, as his eyes focussed to see his Q sitting on the bed next to him.

“Where am I?” Bond croaked, his voice horse. There was a burning sensation in the back of his throat, raw and painful, like a craving for alcohol but not quite the same feeling.

“My flat,” Q replied, picking up a mug of a drink from the bedside table and cradling it in his hands. Wisps of steams drifted gently upwards, curling through the air under Q’s chin.

“Why am I not dead?” Bond asked. He remembered the wound the captors had given him, he had known enough to know that it was fatal. It had been a painful two days, knowing that in a week he would be dead, but the knowledge that he wouldn’t be able to see Q again had hurt even more.

So now, when he looked at his Quartermaster now, with his ruffled hair and soft gaze, Bond drank the image in, savouring every moment of it.

“I said otherwise,” Q said, smiling a wide smile to show his fangs.

 _Fangs_.

“You didn’t,” Bond said.

“Well sorry for saving your life, James,”

“Does that mean I’m going to have to worship you like in that film with Tom Cruise?” Bond asked, his voice horse against his throat.

“Well I wouldn’t complain,” Q smirked, “but no, that’s not how it works,”

“No sparkling?”

“Definitely not, I would have staked myself ages ago if that was the case,”

Bond frowned slightly. He did not like the idea of Q not being alive, especially after they had become inseparable.

“Eames?” Bond asked.

“Arthur’s taking care of him,” Q said with a smile.

“I always find it amusing that you have a brother,” Bond asked.

“It’s more for our protection,”

“Because you’re idiots?”

“Because we’re royalty,” Q replied, picking up another glass from the side of the table, which looked like it contained some sort of thick red smoothie and passed it to Bond.

“Drink up,” the Quartermaster said.

“Is this what I think it is?” Bond asked, sniffing the drink suspiciously. Instantly, the burning in the back on his throat became almost overbearing.

“Yes,” Q said, “now be a good vampire and drink up your blood,”

“You would make an awful doctor, Q,” Bond commented.

“And you make an awful patient, 007,” Q said, taking sip of his tea, “now drink up.”

Bond downed the contents of the glass in one.


End file.
